IMMOLATION: Chapter 1

Monday, 5:30 AM—Joan Darcy’s home

Joan's alarm chimed in it's usual cheery fashion before being unceremoniously thrown across the room where it crashed against wall beside her calender where she'd been ticking off the days before graduation. At the time when Joan purchased the now fragmented pink and silver unicorn alarm clock she thought it was outrageously cute. That had also been over four years ago when she was getting ready to begin her Freshman year at Lyndon B. Johnson High School. As Joan looked down on the broken alarm clock and listened to its death moans she itched to stomp it out of its misery. Joan shook herself over and quelled the surge of emotion she'd awoken with and began picking up the pieces. Joan had never been a morning person but this morning was particularly bad. In fact, Joan thought, she'd been in an off mood for a while. A good run or after school visit to the gym usually put an end to her bad moods but nothing seemed to work this go around. It was like an adrenaline rush she couldn't shake and the tense energy kept her on edge. Joan's mother blamed it on pre-graduation nerves and, as much as Joan hated to concede anything to her mother, she couldn't come up with a better explanation.

Monday, 1:00 PM—Lyndon B. Johnson High School: Cafeteria

Joan stood at the back of the line with the other students who weren't brave or popular enough to cut to the front. Melanie was a little bit ahead of her and she would probably let Joan sneak up a bit but that would mean she'd have to talk to Melanie.

Monday, 1:05 PM—Lyndon B. Johnson High School Cafeteria

The line slugged along much like the sweat on the lunch ladies flabby, sagging arms and both the line and the sweat pooled around the food counter.

“Thank you,” Joan said as always in her polite tone while hiding her disgust for the grease the food seemed to swim and breed in.

Before Joan could duck into the back corner to be by herself, Melanie spotted her and waved her over.

“Joan, I saved you a seat,” she called and Joan had no choice but to change directions. “I saw you in line behind me but you must not have seen me. That's okay...”

Melanie droned on in her innocent way and Joan smiled as best she could. She did like Melanie with her sweet innocence. But, again, today was not a good day. Joan stretched in an attempt to rid herself of some of the offending energy running through her. It didn't work but it did draw the attention of the guys sitting at the table behind her and that always made her feel a little better. Joan's mother could protest all she wanted about how much skin showed when her hands were raised, but that, after all, was the point of it. The guys looked away as soon as Joan looked their way and she feigned prudery at being ogled at.

Melanie was oblivious to all of this as she continued to ramble on in her own little world. That was one thing Joan really did like about Melanie, she could go on having a great conversation with you and if something got you sidetracked you could always get back without much trouble.

Monday, 1:10 PM—Lyndon B. Johnson High School Cafeteria

“...and so I was like,” Melanie continued as Joan enjoyed the warm sensation of being stared at behind her back, “don't you even think about it. And he was all like—Oh my gosh, Joan, you're on fire!” Melanie shrieked and pointed.

The warm sensation Joan had been enjoying was in fact fire. A small flame was burgeoning out of the back of her shirt.

“Ow!” Joan cried, though more out of fear than anything else as the fire had yet to burn her skin. “Put it out!”

Melanie swatted Joan's back with her jacket until the fire was out.

“Are you okay?” Melanie asked.

“I think so,” Joan replied. “Did it burn me?”

Melanie inspected Joan's back but shook her head.

“No,” she said, “but it's burned a hole the size of your face through everything else.”

“Everything?” Joan asked and quickly covered her back with Melanie's jacket. There was a difference between showing off and being taken advantage of.

She stole a quick glance back at the boys whom she'd shown off for previously. They immediately looked away. Melanie followed her gaze to the other table.

“Oh my gosh, you don't think one of them could have done it, do you?”

“I don't know,” Joan said.

Her stomach churned and she wished she could turn invisible. Her favorite shirt, ruined, not to mention the tank top underneath.

“I mean,” Melanie went on, “I've heard of burning a hole through someone by staring at them, and I did notice they were watching you, not that I'm jealous or anything, but—

That warm feeling hit Joan again but rather than being the warm pleasant feeling from before it was more like the warmth that precedes being violently ill. The fact that Melanie was in mid sentence, or that the boys behind her may have just lit her on fire a moment ago all seemed unimportant now. She curled up on her chair, shutting her eyes against the pain and embarrassment and letting the jacket fall to the floor as the sickening warmth covered her body.

The screaming began.

Monday, 1:15 PM—Lyndon B. Johnson High School Cafeteria

Joan burned. She had to catch herself from falling over as the seat beneath her melted. But still, the warmth was so terrible it took all of her concentration just to stay standing.

More screams and guilt stabbed at the back of her mind as the warmth washed over her in waves. Alarms added their discordant tones to the screams and Joan finally pried opened her eyes. Fire surged out from her chest and flowed out over the rest of her body. Her clothes had long since been burned away and she stared around in embarrassment. Most of the students had already scrambled out of the cafeteria but Melanie and the boys who had been staring at her before were still there, keeping a safe distance. Joan screamed and covered herself as best she could as she crouched down to the floor. The fire surged.

Melanie screamed something to her but the roar of the flames was too loud for Joan to make out what it was. Melanie turned to leave as the flames grew closer and noticed the boys still standing there, watching. Joan managed a smile as Melanie, ever the faithful friend, began slapping and kicking the boys into a retreat.

The flames turned white hot and flashed outward before extinguishing themselves and leaving Joan cold and naked in the burned out cafeteria. Melanie immediately ran to her side and wrapped her up in a long coat that had been left behind during the mass exodus of students. The two girls made their way silently to the outside.